Spirits of the Earth: The Complete Series: (A Post-Apocalyptic Series Box Set: Books 1-3) by Milo Fowler (paper ebook reader .TXT) 📕

parked on the street. No wings, no nacelles. A sleek flying car with a full complement of powerful engines housed under the chassis.

"Chen?" the pilot says as his door rises, activating the soft glow of interior lights. Two bench seats behind the pilot, cargo space in back. Plenty of room for my exo and broken drones.

"That's me." Judging by the shape of his lanky silhouette, it's got to be Drasko. Low man on the totem pole, the only pilot Bishop would send out this time of night. And the only technician I'd ever trust with Wink and Blink. "I need you to fix these." I hand them over and go back for my suit.

Drasko cradles the drones like babies. "They've looked better. What were you doing up here, anyway?"

"Routine curfew violation." I grunt, dragging the rigid exo toward his vehicle.

"Routine? Right."

"Weren't you watching the big screen back at HQ? We put on quite a show for a little while."

"I didn't fly out of HQ." He places my drones into the backseat and belts them in place to avoid further damage while in flight. "Been out on patrol."

"Didn't realize it was your shift." Maintaining curfew from the air, ensuring lights are out all across the city. Gotta save energy, folks; can't be selfish. "Any noise?" I've got my exo by the shoulder struts, but I could use a little help.

"Calm and quiet in Dome 1—until Bishop's hail." He grabs hold of the boot-braces, and we load the suit horizontally into the cargo compartment. "EMP grenade, huh? That's unexpected."

I pat Wink's frame. "I'm gonna need the XR boosted. These two had no idea the guy was packing."

Drasko nods, lowering his voice. Like it matters up here where nobody can hear us. "Patriot, you think?"

I fold my arms. Now why would I be involved in anything like that? "You know as well as I do, that high-level stuff's for the investigators and interrogators. I issue warnings. Maybe a ticket. Anybody gets unruly, I shock 'em."

"You didn't shock this guy." He sniffs the air. "I'd smell it, if you had."

"What is this? You get promoted to interrogator without me knowing?" I punch him in the bony shoulder and climb aboard the aerocar. Careful not to rattle Wink or Blink, I find my seat beside them and strap in. "I don't have to tell you squat, Drasko."

He grins as he takes his place at the controls. Flipping a switch over his head, he activates the door closure and dims the cabin lights. "I'm not asking you anything they won't back at HQ. Consider this your trial run."

The door seals itself shut with a low whir, and the aerocar lifts off, pitching forward just a bit as Drasko takes us through the night sky at a leisurely pace. Outside, I can't see much of anything with my augments offline. Shadowy forms of domescrapers rise up from empty streets lined by dark buildings of different shapes and sizes. Maybe half a klick away at about the same altitude, another aerocar glides through the night on patrol. A single point of light on the side alternately blinking red and blue gives away its position.

"So, you didn't shock him." Drasko keeps his eyes either on the glowing display before him or the transparent windscreen, using his visual augments to maintain our course and trajectory. "I take that to mean you wanted to have a word with the guy. Instead of the usual untalkative seizures and pants-crapping."

"Never fun for either of us."

"Took me a while to clean up after the last retrieval. When was that? A week ago?"

"Sounds right." A drunk and disorderly curfew violator. I warned him politely to return home. He didn't want to. Thought he'd prove to his buddies what a real hard-ass he was by taking a swing at me instead. I wouldn't say I'm a quick-draw artist, but I hit him with a round from my shocker before his fist got anywhere close to my chin. "Almost good as new in here."

"Thanks for noticing." He chuckles. "So, tonight's violator. High on dust?"

"Prevailing theory."

He curses under his breath. "Hard to believe, right? The stories are one thing. Myths and legends. Nobody takes them seriously, not until you see it firsthand. Then it's like a whole new world's opened up, right there in front of you."

Drasko's twice my age, at least. As far as I know, he's always worked in law enforcement but has never seen any reason to rise up through the ranks. He likes flying, and he likes fixing things. There's a lot he doesn't open up about. Take the scars that run down both sides of his neck like puckered seams, proof he battled the plague more than twenty years ago. I asked him about it once.

"I'm a survivor." That's all he said at the time, with half a grin.

Like that much wasn't obvious enough.

No idea if he's got any family, or if he lost them during the plague. Maybe they're still alive but relegated to Dome 6 with all the other sicks.

"We live only now," he often recites the Eurasian credo, "never looking back."

He's seen plenty over the years, and he's told me stories about some of his encounters with dust freaks: unaugmented people seeing in the dark, breathing underwater, impervious to cuts and bruises no matter what abuse they put themselves through. But the abilities are always temporary, active only while they're high on the stuff.

Like my guy who threw himself off that roof back there. I would've caught him eventually, if he played fair.

"Chen?" Drasko brings me back to the present.

"Yeah." I nod. "First time."

"Lemme guess. No exo-suit, but he could leap between buildings without any damage? Maybe even jump off one and live to tell the tale?"

"That's about the size of it. You seen this before?" If he has, he's never said so.

"Not a jumper. Nope, can't say that I have. Pretty sure nobody has." He pauses. "Your boys recorded it, I trust."

I pat Blink's frame next to me. As